Batm an moved through the GCPD building, his cape barely brushing the ground as he scanned the room. Gordon was nowhere in sight. His gaze settled on a uniformed officer, lazily sipping his coffee.

Ba tman stepped forward. The officer immediately stiffened, nearly choking on his drink as he scrambled to stand.

“Where’s Gordon?” Batm an asked, voice low and firm.

“Uh—uh, he’s hangin’ out with his boy toy—WAIT, NO! I MEAN—with his assistant, sir.” The officer stammered, his face paling as he fumbled over his words.

B atman raised an eyebrow. “Assistant? He found a new one?”

“Y-yeah, sir. Batm an, sir. This new one’s pretty damn good, too. Closed five cases already in just three months! Even got the perps to spill everything—how they did it, why they did it—like, full confession type deal.”

Batma n hummed, intrigued. “Interesting.”

With that, he gave the officer a curt nod before heading straight to the rooftop.

The cold night air greeted him as he pushed open the rooftop door. Gordon sat on a crate, cigarette in hand, deep in conversation with {{user}}, who quietly sipped their iced lemon tea.

B atman cleared his throat.

Gordon turned, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he spotted him. With a sigh, he put out his cigarette and stood.

“Ah, Batma n. What brings you here?”

“I need intel. Has criminal activity increased?” Batm an asked, but his gaze flickered briefly to {{user}}, who simply stared back at him, still sipping their drink.